I take what I have observed and try to construct a plausible version of events to explain the owls unease. Perhaps the short eared owl is still making its presence felt. Twice this week I have seen it at dusk flying high and proud along the dykes and ditches that border the farm. This newcomer would certainly worry our resident barn owls and there is a possibility that it has happened upon my twilight banquet.
With the little owls as vocal as the barn owls I wonder if they too have produced second broods and are asserting themselves within the hierarchy. Three neighbours have told me how these indignant pepper pot raptors have woken them with their incessant chiding this week. I smile to myself remembering the telling off they regularly gave me during June. Young little owls would be a tremendous bonus for October.
Meanwhile the kestrels regularly fly from the straw in alarm, their call less regular, but probably the loudest. I watch these with especial interest wondering which, if any, are the youngsters that were so rudely turned from east nest box by the impatient barn owls. Now fully feathered and flying confidently perhaps they feel it is their turn for superiority.
However as the week progresses I am forced to concede that the rivalry is primarily between the barn owls. On Monday I watch the shed female. By the farm gate I am well hidden but can still see her as she ferries seven prey items up into the shed. This is a relief as I had peeped through the door handle hole earlier and seen one of the younger owlets out of the nest box but roosting on the wood. The female was sitting with it during daylight hours but after dark it had gone.It was reassuring to see so many meals being taken inside and I felt sure once tea arrived this part grown owlet would have determinedly made its way back into the box. While watching this hardworking mum a second owl glided into the farm and perched waiting above her shed entrance. Ever opportunistic it flew down as soon as she disappeared inside to help itself to food. She appeared seemingly furious with the thief and a skirmish ensued directly in front of me. The clashes were audible as the owls wrestled towards the floor.This time the intruder won flying triumphantly out of the farm whilst our resident owl sat on the crew yard wall staring at me as I were somehow to blame.
With rain every day for the whole of October it is possible that other owls are so desperate for food that the shrieks coming from our resident birds are indeed aimed at visiting adults such as this one. They too will have hungry owlets and risk a confrontation in such circumstances. It is also possible that some of our summer brood owlets are returning during these harsh times and are no longer welcome. Last night at dusk I watch an owl inexpertly hunting across the fields, swooping down halfheartedly before landing awkwardly on a willow branch. An cameo brooch on a tatty tweed jacket. I would feed this unfortunate if I could.
But finally, a chink in the weather and I walk down upon dry grass and under clear skies. The owlets are as impudent as ever, bobbing and weaving at my approach and hissing raucously. But the hostility from the adults has ceased. With the opportunity to hunt for themselves the raids on the farm have ceased and the waning moon bathes the yard in a blanket of serenity. For the sake of the resident families I hope this fragile state of affairs can continue.
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